I kissed her, and threw back the shawl from her thick dark hair, and asked her in the softest whisper, bending to her ear:
‘You don’t regret it, Olyessia? You don’t repent?’
She shook her head slowly.
‘No, no.... Come what may, I shan’t regret.... I am so happy!’
‘Is something bound to happen, then?’
There appeared in her eyes a flash of the mystical terror I had grown to recognise.
‘Yes, it is certain. You remember I told you about the queen of clubs. That queen of clubs is me, myself; the misfortune that the cards told of will happen to me.... You know I thought of asking you not to come and see us any more. But then you fell ill, and I never saw you for nearly a fortnight.... I was so anxious and sad for you that I felt I could have given the whole world to be with you, just one little minute. Then I thought that I would not give up my happiness, whatever should come of it....’
‘It’s true, Olyessia. That’s how it was with me, too,’ I said, touching her forehead with my lips. ‘I never knew that I loved you until I parted from you. It seems that man was right who said that parting to love is like wind to a fire: it blows out a small one, and makes a large one blaze.’
‘What did you say? Say it again, again, please.’ Olyessia was interested.
I repeated the words again. I do not know whose they are. Olyessia mused over them, and I could see by the movement of her lips that she was saying the words over to herself.